MFU Prompts
by alynwa
Summary: These are stories of varying lengths based on prompts found in the MFU100 Community on LJ.
1. Two Agents and a Baby - Elephant

"Every time I begin to think THRUSH can no longer surprise me, they do. This time, I think they've taken the cake!"

Illya looked around confused. "There was cake? Where? Are you sure they've taken it?"

Napoleon laughed until he had to wipe away tears. "I'm sorry, Partner Mine; I forget that American colloquialisms throw you sometimes. What I mean is: This particular bird imagined himself a Rajah and built a satrap that looks like an Indian palace right here in Goa, India. I just don't understand how THRUSH continues to function and thrive when the majority of the rank and file seem to be a bunch of crackpots."

"Oh. Whatever, Napoleon. I have gathered all the paperwork from the lab. I suggest we leave everything else for the Cleanup Crew and head to the Bombay office. It will take us hours to drive there. There is a truck out back that we can use though it is not air – conditioned."

Napoleon shook his head in disgust. "Why are THRUSH trucks never air – conditioned? And, why are these satraps always far removed from a space suitable for landing a chopper?"

Illya rolled his eyes. "Really, Napoleon, would you like some cheese to go with that whine?"

As they walked out of the building toward the truck, Napoleon was saying, "Honestly, Partner Mine, you act like all I do is complain. I hardly ever…" He stopped dead in his tracks. "Did you hear that?"

Both men drew their weapons. "I heard nothing. What did it sound like?"

"I know there's no one else here, but is sounded like a toot on a clarinet." He turned his head as if to fine tune his hearing. Suddenly, a sound came from what appeared to be a large shed.

Crouching down, both men cautiously approached the door. Sounds of someone moving about could now be clearly heard through the door. They knelt on either side of the door and Napoleon signed to Illya that he would kick open the door for the Russian to enter. He held up three fingers, closed his fist and then began to count by holding up his fingers one at a time. _One, two, three! _He kicked the door wide open and Illya raced in first to confront…a baby elephant that, startled at the sudden noise, ran to the back of the shed crying in distress.

Napoleon looked over Illya's shoulder at the creature and then around the enclosure. He saw a refrigerator that when he opened it revealed what he assumed to be food for the animal. He took out some bananas and called softly, "Come here, Sweetheart. It's OK, we're sorry we scared you. Come." Still skittish, but wanting the food, it started to come closer. All the while, Napoleon kept uttering encouraging words in soothing tones until finally, it walked over and gently took the bananas from him. As it chewed, he petted it and looked it over. "Oh, you're a little girl! Hello!"

Illya grinned, "Of course she is. If I am not mistaken, this is an Indian elephant. They are endangered. I suggest we take her with us so that we can turn her over to the proper authorities."

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

"We have a truck; we will put her in the back with all her food and water. She is wearing a decorative headband; she is obviously used to people and she likes you, so we will take her, yes?"

Napoleon sighed. "It is our job to protect the Innocents, _all _Innocents of which Ellie is one."

"Ellie Elephant? How original."

"We have to call her something and I refuse to get too attached. Let's get her into the truck so we can get out of here."

They drafted two members of the Cleanup Crew to load all the food and two barrels of water in the body of the truck along with a fresh bed of hay. Finally, Napoleon was able to coax Ellie into the truck which fortunately had holes for air cut out along the top of all four sides. He got into the cab as Illya started the engine and pulled out of the compound.

After ten minutes or so, Ellie started to make plaintive noises. Fifteen minutes later, the Russian pulled over and said, "Napoleon, I refuse to drive for twelve hours with a crying baby elephant in my ear. You know what you have to do."

Napoleon looked shocked. "_Me? _It was _your _idea to bring her! Why don't you go back there and babysit?"

"I will. Do you know how to drive an eighteen gear truck?"

The brunet's response was to mumble, "I really hate you right now" before getting out of the cab and heading to the back of the truck.

Illya heard the door open in back. "Don't cry, Ellie. Don't be afraid, I'm going to stay and keep you company." The door closed and Illya heard Napoleon's knock. "Alright, let's go and if I tell you to stop, you better because it means one of us has used the bathroom!"

The Russian started laughing and hit the gas to smoothly get the truck moving. He was still smiling as he turned on the radio. _I wonder if I can find a jazz station._


	2. Lunchtime Lust - Accent

The Secretarial Pool was all atwitter over the arrival of UNCLE's newest agent, the Russian known as Illya Kuryakin. Eight typists were huddled together over their lunches gossiping about their new favorite Section II.

"Remember Twyla? The girl from Communications who transferred to the London office last year?" Sandra was saying as the others leaned in closer, "Well, we've stayed in touch and she told me that Agent Kuryakin never dated anyone at work. He barely spoke to any of the girls there; the friendliest he would become was allowing some of them to call him Illya."

"Eeeeliya," Glenna swooned, "what an exotic name! And have you heard him _speak?_ His accent is so, so _sexy!_"

Marian chimed in, "It _is _sexy, isn't it? When he came to my office to have his ID photo taken, he sat in front of the screen with such a serious face, I said 'Come on, Mr. Kuryakin, I'm taking you're picture, not shooting you!' He gave me the _cutest_ little smile and said, 'I will try to do better.' He is…_scrumptious._" She sighed at the memory.

"Hey, you two!" Josie spoke up, "Just because you both got to speak with him is no reason to show off!"

"Yes, it is!" Marian and Glenna said in unison.

Before any of the other women at the table could respond, the Commissary doors swung open to reveal the CEA and his partner. Speaking quietly to each other, they picked up trays and stepped into the food line, providing the women unobstructed views of their backsides. Wordlessly, they stared until the men finished paying for their meals and turned to head to a table.

Carmen waved boldly to get their attention. "Hello, Mr. Solo! Is that your partner?"

Napoleon said something to the Russian, who glowered, but silently approached the table with him. "Carmen, Ladies, hello. I'd like to introduce Mr. Illya Kuryakin, a transfer from UNCLE Europe and my partner. Illya, meet Carmen, Sandra, Josie, Terry, CeCe, Elaine and I believe you already know Marian and Glenna."

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Marian, Glenna; nice to see you again." He stood awkwardly for a few seconds and then said to Napoleon, "We need to talk about our mission."

Napoleon nodded. "Of Course. Ladies." He tipped his imaginary hat and then led the way to where the Section IIs preferred to sit.

"What an accent. What a _voice,"_ CeCe rhapsodized, "I could listen to him all day."

"Voice, schmoice!" Elaine said, "I would _love_ to be the _filling_ in _that _Section II sandwich!"

They laughed so hard the objects of their affection and attention turned to watch them as they got up to return to work.


	3. There Are None So Blind - Blind

Illya and Napoleon were in Medical; Napoleon as a patient and Illya as the partner offering support. They were listening to Dr. Jameson, the Chief of Medicine, as he explained why Napoleon was currently blind. "So you see," he was saying, "the flash and concussion of the explosion traumatized your eyes. There are no guarantees, Mr. Solo, but I believe that your sight will return."

Napoleon sat there listening calmly. He was dressed in the silk pajamas Illya had gotten from his apartment. A wide white bandage was wrapped around his head to hold two cotton gauze patches on his eyes to make sure no light got through. "Would you like to hazard a guess, Doctor, as to when that might happen? My dates will think I'm being insincere if I compliment their looks sight unseen."

Dr. Jameson shrugged, a gesture Napoleon could not see and that caused Illya to flinch inwardly. "It could be as soon as a week or it could be months. I really don't know and I don't wish to speculate. The only thing I can tell you besides I'm confident you _will_ see again is: Be patient."

"Thank you, Doctor," Napoleon said and held out his right hand. After a moment's hesitation, Dr. Jameson shook it.

"I have to see my other patients. I've authorized a sedative for you if you become anxious or can't fall asleep. I understand, Mr. Kuryakin, that you will be staying here tonight. Push the call button if you or Mr. Solo need anything. Goodnight."

After he heard the door close, Napoleon leaned his head back upon his pillow and exhaled deeply. Illya watched him for a few minutes. Someone else might not have noticed, but Illya could see the tension in the man's body. "Napoleon," he said softly, "tell me how you are feeling."

"I'm scared, _Tovarisch. _Being blind is one of my greatest fears, maybe my _greatest _fear. I feel vulnerable and helpless."

Illya pulled his chair closer to the bed and took Napoleon's left hand into both of his. One of the first things he had learned when he was partnered with Napoleon almost ten years earlier is that the American was the most tactile man he had ever met. Not that he indiscriminately groped anyone who got too close, but if he liked you, he would touch you. It had taken time, but Illya had learned, first to tolerate, and then to enjoy, getting his hair ruffled, his shoulder clapped and his back rubbed. Illya had also learned that being touched by people he cared about centered and calmed Napoleon. "I am here, _moy droog, _and you will know, either by my voice or my touch, that I am here. You are safe. I promise you that. Rest now."

Napoleon's body relaxed visibly as he dropped off to sleep.

_Two weeks later…_

Doctor Jameson, Mr. Waverly and Agent Kuryakin were all gathered in Napoleon's room as the doctor prepared to remove the bandages once again. "Okay, now everyone remember that if he sees anything at all, it's going to be blurry at first." He cut through the gauze and slowly unwrapped it before removing the cotton patches from Napoleon's eyes. "Open them slowly, Agent Solo."

Napoleon was reluctant to open them at all. This was the fourth time the doctor was checking to see if his sight had returned. Each time had been disappointing and he had had to endure listening to the "Give it time" speech Dr. Jameson would recite. _I swear, if I open my eyes and see nothing and he starts that "Give it time" crap, I'm going to kill him. Or order Illya to. _The thought of his Russian partner snapping Jameson's neck on his command actually made him grin and feel a little better. _Here goes nothing, _he thought and then slowly cracked open his eyelids and then shut them quickly. "There's light! It hurt my eyes!"

"Good, good," he heard the doctor say, "The lights are very dim in here. Try again."

This time, expecting light, he opened his eyelids and kept them open. At first, everything was fuzzy, but slowly things began to come into focus until he found himself looking at the faces of his boss, partner and physician. "I see no one's looks have improved with time," he quipped.

"Obviously, you're doing better, Mr. Solo. No reading or TV watching or staring for at least twenty – four hours. I'll schedule an eye exam in a few days."

"Fine. When can I go home?"

Laughingly, Dr. Jameson said, "You wouldn't be a Section II if you didn't want out the second you felt better! I'll release you to recuperate at home tomorrow if Mr. Waverly okays your partner taking care of you for a couple of days."

"You have my permission, Mr. Kuryakin," Mr. Waverly said, "If you'll all excuse me, I have a meeting to attend."

"I'll walk you out, Sir," the doctor said, "I'll see you men later."

When they were alone, Napoleon looked at his partner. "It's really good to see your scowling face, Partner Mine," he said with a big smile. He became serious immediately. "Thank you, Illya."

"It has been a long time since you thanked me for being with you while you were injured. I thought we were past that."

"This was different. I was afraid, Illya, truly afraid that I might be permanently blind. And I knew that I could tell you that. That means a lot to me. I also know that you are not the most 'touchy – feely' person on the planet, but every day, you would rub my arm, hold my hand, hug me hello and goodbye to let me know you were here and you made sure you did it when I was feeling low." He blinked quickly. "I thanked you not only because you were with me, but because you were not blind to my fears and needs. That means everything."

Illya smiled broadly and patted Napoleon's leg. "That means we are partners."


	4. Thinking About the Future - Computer

"Napoleon, I was reading in one of my periodicals that computer technologists are working on making computers smaller and more consumer friendly. Can you imagine? They are predicting people will have computers in their homes."

"Like the cartoon _The Jetsons? _Can you imagine using a computer to program your home? I could see myself getting involved with the computer business if that were to happen."

"You? You do not even know how to type, but you see yourself doing something with computers in the future?"

"Why not, Illya? I could do that."

"Hmmpf. Maybe I will become a fashion designer."


	5. Blood - Soaked Thoughts - Blood

_Blood, I am covered in blood. It is in my hair and on my face; I can feel it flaking off my skin where it has dried. I am in Medical now. The nurses keep attempting to clean me, but I keep telling them to leave me be. The doctors are here now and other nurses are helping them cut clothing, insert IV drips and attach lines that connect to machines that track vital signs. I should be used to this by now, but this is different. I look over when I hear the door open and I can see Mr. Waverly._

"Dr. Jameson informs me that he will recover. I understand this was another close call. Good job, everyone. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you his partner will be staying in the room tonight."

_The Old Man harrumphs and takes his leave. Soon, everyone else leaves and it is just the two of us. I am finally able to slide my chair over and take your hand so you know I am here. I do not know what possessed you to throw yourself directly into the line of fire to take a bullet for me. That should be me lying there or in the morgue, but you saw a chance to save my life and you took it. Again. You are the best friend and partner I ever had._

"Hey," comes a weak voice from the bed, "What are you thinking about?"

"I am thinking that you are a blockhead. Get some sleep." 


	6. Pillow Talk - Pillow

"Mark Darling, you're hogging the pillow! It's bad enough we're squeezed into this cot. I am so sick and tired of Accounting complaining to the Old Man about the budget! We risk our lives for the common good, must we also risk our backs?"

"My dear girl, look at it this way: I have a pillow approximately the size of any standard one while _you _have the use of a six foot tall self – heated model that adjusts for your comfort."

"I have to admit, I never looked at it that way. I guess I have the better deal, Darling."


	7. Learning Something New - Church

The two men met outside of Del Floria's Tailor Shoppe Monday morning and entered together. "Good morning, gentlemen," Agent Del Floria said with a huge smile on his face, "Have a great day."

"Thank you," they said in unison before entering the last changing booth. Napoleon opened the door, Glenna gave them their badges (pinning Napoleon's on, of course) and they headed to the Commissary for coffee.

"I tried to call you yesterday morning, but when you did not answer, I assumed you were still on your Saturday night date. Was I right?"

"Actually, Partner Mine, you were not. I was home at a very respectable five AM; shut up! What time did you call?"

"It was just after eight."

"Ahhh, that's why you missed me; I was in church for eight o'clock Mass."

By now, they had gotten their coffee and entered their shared office. Illya was, at first, stunned into speechlessness, but recovered quickly. "You went to _Mass?_ What? Did you have a pregnancy scare?"

Napoleon sat at his desk and pulled affair reports from his "In" box to review. "Hahaha, Illya. You know I believe in God. I just thought since we're home and I had the opportunity, that I would attend Mass." He stared at the Russian. "Does that bother you?"

Illya shook his head. "Why would that bother me?" he asked, "I am just a little surprised is all. You never talk about religion."

"I don't believe in discussing my relationship with God, so it doesn't come up much in conversation."

"I see. May I ask a question before we let the matter drop?"

"How do you reconcile the things we must sometimes do with your beliefs? Aren't our lives sometimes at odds with your religious convictions?"

"All I can hope and pray for is that I will be judged for the good I have done and the lives I have helped to save."

"I agree." The blond smiled. "I have learned something new about you!"

"Good for you," Napoleon replied as he opened a file, "Do some work."


	8. Social Awkwardness - Sweater

"That's a lovely shade of blue, Tovarisch. Who gave you the sweater?"

The Russian blushed so fiercely he was red from his collar to the roots of his hair. He put the gift box down on the couch so he could turn his back to his partner and attempt to compose himself. When he felt his face cooling off, he went to sit at his desk. "Joanne in Translations knitted it for me."

"Oh?" Napoleon leaned forward onto his desk and put his face on his fists. "Do tell."

"There is nothing to tell. I went to Translations to pick up the transcripts from the interrogations I had conducted on those captured THRUSH and Joanne asks to speak with me. I followed her to her office and when we got there, she handed me this box. She told me that she hoped I liked it. I opened the box and when I saw what it was, she said she had made it for me. I asked her why she had done it and she said she was not a great cook, but she could knit really well and she wanted to make it for me."

"Wow," Napoleon commented, "And what did you do?"

"I was not going to accept it, but she looked so excited I thought it would devastate her if I did that. I did not know what to do except say 'thank you.'"

"Illya, Illya, Illya. Tsk, tsk, tsk. A lovely young lady spends her precious time knitting you a sweater and all you can say is 'thank you?"

"And what would you have done?"

Napoleon shook his head in disbelief. "And you call _me _blockhead! I would have asked her out! Obviously she likes you, so take her out to dinner or dancing or a movie. And wear the sweater._"_

Illya rolled his eyes. "I do not like her in that way."

"Fine. Take her for drinks and _don't _wear the sweater."

"You have an answer for everything, I see." The Russian shrugged his shoulders and reached for his phone. He dialed a number and waited while it rang. "Joanne? It is Illya. I wanted to thank you again for my gift and ask you if you would like to go for a drink after work. You would? Good, I will meet you at the agents' entrance at six. See you then. Goodbye." He cradled the receiver and looked at his grinning partner. "Are you happy now?"

Napoleon laughed, "No, but I bet Joanne is. Take her someplace nice, Partner Mine."

_The next morning…_

"Good morning, Partner Mine! How was your date?" Napoleon walked into their office carrying his briefcase and coffee. "You got in early."

The Russian sipped his coffee and pulled his lab notes from his desk drawer. "Good morning. My date was painfully awkward. Joanne is quite shy; I suspected she wanted me to initiate and carry the conversation. I really did not have much to say to her. We basically sat at a table in the Masque Club and had a drink and stared at each other until I said I had to go. I put her in a cab and came back to the Lab to work for a few more hours."

Napoleon grimaced, "Ouch, that does sound painful. Sorry that didn't work out."

"Do me a favor, Napoleon. The next time you decide to give me dating advice; do not."


	9. A Poetic Interlude - Book

"What's that you're reading, Illya?"

"A book."

"That much I can see, smart – alecky Russian."

"It is 'Sonnets from the Portuguese' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning."

"_Poetry?_ I didn't take you for the poetic type, Tovarisch."

"I am Russian, Napoleon; poetry is in my blood. It moves through me with every beat of my heart. It makes my reality a little brighter and colors my dreams with vivid images of pure imagination. I enjoy reading it."

"You sound like you could enjoy writing poetry, Illya. Have you ever tried?"

"I have."

"May I read it?"

"Let me think about that, Napoleon."


	10. Like Candy for Dinner - Candy

"Is that my candy bar, Napoleon?"

"Maybe."

"It either is my candy bar or it is not. It was not a difficult question."

"Well, it wasn't in your desk drawer."

"Because it was _on my desk! _I had been looking forward to that Bit O' Honey for the last two hours while I was working in the lab! You can be so selfish and thoughtless, Napoleon; what am I going to do with you?"

"I'm sorry, I was hungry and I didn't think. Tell you what: I'll buy you dinner tonight."

"For that, you may eat my Baby Ruth, too."


	11. An Interrogation Technique - Kiss

The kiss was soft and tentative. The feel of his lips on hers sent her senses reeling. His arms encircled her firmly while his hands slid seductively up and down the fabric of her dress. He stepped closer and moved his mouth to lightly kiss her ear and nibble her lobe.

She groaned with pleasure as he continued his assault on her neck. She hadn't felt this good in a very long time; sex was the least of what she would do for him. As they sank to the bed Illya purred, "Where is Napoleon Solo?"

"Downstairs, in a cell."


	12. Escorts - Paris

"Gentlemen, I'm sending you to Paris to oversee the defection of a Red Chinese diplomat to the West."

"Yes, Mr. Waverly," Napoleon replied, "When and where do you want us to take him?"

"Mr. Sheng will rendezvous with you at the Moulin Rouge during the show's intermission tomorrow night. Take him immediately to the American Embassy; his temporary American passport will be waiting; afterwards, go to Orly to meet the UNCLE jet and return to New York."

"Yes, Sir."

"Mr. Kuryakin, your assignment will be to make sure Mr. Solo is not distracted by the showgirls."

"I will not fail."


	13. Love and Friendship - Friendship

Illya and Aunt Amy were having tea while they waited for Napoleon to arrive so they could have dinner. Illya hoped he wasn't late because the food smelled exquisite.

"I want to tell you, Illya, how glad and grateful I am that you two share a friendship. He could have no better friend than you."

Blushing, Illya replied, "Thank you, Aunt Amy. I am the grateful one because my best friend has an aunt who loves and accepts me as family."

"Dear boy," she cooed as she kissed him.

"Where's mine?"

"Nephew! Here's your kiss, dear."

"We are lucky men."


	14. Moving Forward - London

Illya packed the last of his wardrobe into his battered brown suitcase and looked around his studio flat one last time. He had been assigned to UNCLE London for two years and Mr. Beldon had informed him that Alexander Waverly had decided it was time for him to move on to the New York Headquarters. "He's decided with whom he will partner you," Mr. Beldon had said.

Illya sighed as his eyes traveled around the room. It really didn't look any different than it had when he was living there; he had very few items of a personal nature with which to personalize a living space. For him, the flat was just a place to keep his clothes and lay his head; just like London had been a way station on the way to New York.

_When Mr. Waverly chose me to join UNCLE, he made it clear that I would eventually wind up in New York, but I had to complete Survival School and spend time in Europe. He was pleased that Cutter wanted me to teach a class after I graduated; truth be told, I was proud that I was asked. I wonder who my partner will be. I hope we work well together. I trust Mr. Waverly's judgment. If he thinks we will make good partners, then we will. _He checked the time. _My flight leaves in three hours._

He took the key to the place out of his pocket and placed it on the kitchen counter. Picking up his suitcase, he walked out the door and into his future. 


	15. Plane Love - Jet

"Napoleon, do you remember the first time you rode on the UNCLE jet?" Illya asked as they sat on the tarmac waiting to get clearance to proceed to the runway.

"Absolutely! It was the first time I accompanied the Old Man to a Summit meeting. Each Number One has a jet at his beck and call and they all look the same: Roomy interior with wide leather seats, fully stocked bar, high – end stereo system, five television screens and a communications array just like what's in their offices. And, of course, the most beautiful stewardesses on the planet! I thought I had died and gone to Secret Agent Heaven!"

Illya raised his eyebrows to the point where they disappeared under his bangs. "Does that mean that your former conquests will be serving our drinks and food? You may want to have yours tested before you eat or drink," he replied drolly.

"I will have you know I have never…_conquered _any of them."

"_What? _I do not believe it!"

"Believe it, Mr. Kuryakin. I refuse to have any unpleasantness on my jet because my CEA's libido is bordering on unchained. My flight crew is off - limits."

The Russian smiled. "Now it all makes sense."


	16. You Like Me! - Beaker

"What brings you to the lab, Napoleon?"

"You, Illya. Ready for lunch?"

_bump_

"Careful, you big ox! That beaker contains a corrosive acid! You could have spilled it!"

The CEA looked shocked and then chastened. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Illya realized with a start, _I have hurt his feelings! _"You could have been badly burned," he explained, "I do not want you to get hurt."

Napoleon's smile returned. "You like me!"

"Do not be ridiculous. You are my superior and therefore, must be protected."

"I am your _partner_ and you like me."

"You are a blockhead, Napoleon."

"That you like."

"Yes."


	17. Mail Call - Mail

Illya and Napoleon were going through their mail one Saturday evening while Leona sat playing with her teddy bear on the living room rug. "I've said it before, Tovarisch, and I'll say it again: I am _so _glad I am not really Navarre Solange. All he gets are bills and bank statements. He's so boring."

"I am sure Mr. Solange _is _boring, but Eddie Case is a musician. He receives requests to play at jazz clubs frequently."

"Plus bills and band statements. He's a little less boring than Navarre, but boring is boring."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Leona?"

"Can I ask a question?"

"May."

"_May _I ask a question?" the four year old said as she got up from the floor holding Rollo to her and walked closer to the two men sitting on the couch.

"Yes, you may," Napoleon answered as he leaned forward and pulled the little girl onto his lap, "What would you like to know?"

"You open Navarre's mail, papa opens Eddie's mail; why come I don't get mail to open?"

"'How come,' not 'why come," Papa interjected, "How come you do not have mail to open is the question you are asking, _da?_"

"_Da, _Papa."

The two men shared a quick look and Napoleon reached into his pile of mail and extracted two pieces. "Let me show you something, Sweetheart. This word," he pointed to one of the envelopes he was holding, "is 'Occupant.' That's Rollo's mail and _these _words say 'Current Resident.' That is your mail. From now on, any mail that comes with those words on the envelopes belongs to you and Rollo and you may open them. How does that sound to you?"

"Good," she replied as she slid off Daddy's lap. "Oh, but Rollo can't read at all!"

"Do not worry, Daughter; Daddy or I will help you and Rollo with your mail. Here, let us look at this one. Open it, Leona."

With both parents watching, Leona opened her first piece of mail and looked over the pages very carefully. She handed the first page to Papa and asked, "What does it say, please?'

The Russian read what he had been given, looked at Leona and Rollo and intoned solemnly, "You may have won one million dollars."


	18. Time for Bed - Bed

It had been a long affair after a series of long affairs and looking at his two top agents as they gave their verbal reports, Mr. Waverly actually felt a twinge of guilt. _It simply could not be helped; those affairs called for my elite teams and Dancer and Slate had both been on medical leave from their last affair and Agent Ferraro was still mourning the loss of his partner and was not yet fit for the field.* Now that the Slate/Dancer team is back to full duty, I can let these two have a few days to recuperate."_

"Sir?"

Mr. Waverly looked at his CEA and realized he had stopped speaking. He hated being caught woolgathering and harrumphed loudly. "Yes, well, thank you, Mr. Solo. Just make sure it's all in your written report." He reached behind him for his pipe and matches, during which time the agents exchanged an amused glance. When he turned back around, both young men were serious faced and attentive. "I know circumstances demanded that you and Mr. Kuryakin shoulder more responsibility than normal, but that has ceased for the moment. After you hand in the written report, consider yourselves on leave for the next week. Get some rest, Gentlemen. Dismissed."

The agents stood and walked out of the room. Napoleon smiled at Miss Rogers while Illya just nodded in her direction. Once they stepped into the hallway, the fatigue that was vaguely evident in Mr. Waverly's office became immediately apparent. Illya began to limp slightly and Napoleon gripped his arm which had been deeply bruised during a fistfight.

"When I get home, I do not want to drink, I do not want to eat; I want to crawl into my bed and sleep for sixteen hours without interruption."

Napoleon stopped in his tracks. "_You _don't want to _eat?_" he asked incredulously. "You _must _be exhausted!" He began walking again as Illya had never stopped.

"I feel eighty – five instead of thirty – five. I just want my bed. Do not tell me you do not feel the same way."

"I admit it, Partner Mine, I'm whipped, but I intend to eat dinner. I'm going to ask Sylvia to join me and, if I'm lucky, and I _am_, I'll be waking up in her bed tomorrow morning."

"I would think you would want to awaken in your own bed."

Napoleon laughed, "Oh, I'll get there. Just not tonight."

"You never cease to amaze me, Napoleon."


	19. Pinching Pennies

"What are you doing with those scissors, Tovarisch?" Napoleon was spending Thursday evening hanging out with his partner in the Russian's apartment, much to Illya's annoyance. Without a television to capture his attention, Napoleon was spending his time fiddling with the radio, perusing Illya's books and magazines and watching what the blond was doing like a hawk.

"Cutting out coupons for the supermarket."

"_What? _Why? You don't shop!" UNCLE employed people who kept the apartments of Section IIs clean and stocked with the basics.


	20. A Teardrop of Knowledge - Earring

"Um, Illya, what is this?" Napoleon asked as he pulled a pearl earring from between the cushions of The Little Bear, his nickname for the Russian's couch.

The blond was sitting at his table, large – framed glasses perched on his nose as he perused his backlog of newspapers. They had returned from Arizona earlier in the day and after being debriefed by Mr. Waverly and completing their paperwork, Illya shocked the CEA by offering to spring for Chinese takeout. They had eaten until stuffed and Napoleon had gone to stretch out on the couch. "What is what, Napoleon?" he replied without taking his eyes off the article he was reading.

"_This _is what," Napoleon remarked at he waved the teardrop shaped earring over his head until Illya finally looked up. Someone who didn't know his partner would not have noticed the fleeting "deer caught in the headlights" expression that flitted across Illya's face, but Napoleon saw it and frowned until an unlikely, but probable, answer began to come to him. "Oh," he said as realization struck. "_Oh._" He sat up and stared at Illya. "Ohhhhhhhhh."

"Napoleon, as scintillating as your conversation is; is there a question or statement you want to make to which I can reply? Or have you lost the ability to speak?"

Napoleon pointed a finger at Illya. "You're sleeping with April! Why didn't you tell me?"

"And you figured that out from a single earring hidden in my couch? Is that not a bit presumptuous on your part?"

Napoleon laughed out loud at that. "Don't even try it, Partner Mine! Don't even try to go on the offensive! There are only two females who have made it past your door: That little kitten* and April."

"That does not mean…"

"That you two had sex?" Napoleon interrupted. "This is an expensive earring; April would have to have been, shall we say, _extremely _distracted not to notice it was missing. Face it, Tovarisch, you are _busted._"

Illya put the newspaper down, folded his hands together on his lap and looked down at the floor. "What are you going to do?" he asked softly.

The smile faded from Napoleon's face. _What am I going to _do_?,_ he thought incredulously. "Illya, look at me." He waited until the Russian raised his eyes to him again. "You're my friend and so is April. Do you honestly think I would do something to _hurt _you?" At the bloom of red that began to show on Illya's face he said, "I'm _happy _for you, both of you."

"You are?"

Napoleon came to sit at the table for Illya. "You're not like me, Illya and neither is April. I hop in and out of women's beds all the time because that is who I am. You, on the other hand, are far more discriminating. If April was in your bed it's because you genuinely care and I'm guessing, the feeling is mutual."

For the first time since they began this conversation, Illya smiled slightly. "Yes, I believe it is. I am sorry if I seemed secretive, but April and I decided we wanted to keep this between us. Are you going to tell Mark?"

"This is not my story to tell, Partner. I suggest you let April know that I know and she can decide whether or not to tell her partner. If she does, I think you'll both find you underestimated him, too."

Illya put a hand on Napoleon's shoulder. "I am sorry; I do trust you. You are a better friend to me than I am to you."

Napoleon's smile was bright and full. "Yes, I am and don't you ever forget it! Again." He stood, ruffled the blond's hair and announced, "I'm going home. See you in the morning."

After Illya reset the alarms after Napoleon's exit, he walked over to his phone and dialed a number. When it was answered he said, "Hello, how are you? I am fine. Yes, we get back earlier this evening. Napoleon knows about us. He found your pearl earring. No, he will not say anything. Think about telling Mark. I will see you at work. Goodnight."

*This story references my drabble "The Crush" and my tale "The Next Level."


	21. On Balance - Balance Beam

Napoleon watched silently as Illya moved smoothly and effortlessly along the balance beam that stood at one end of UNCLE HQ's gym. The Accounting Department had finally approved the addition of gymnastic equipment to help agents stay in shape. In addition to the balance beam, there were even and uneven parallel bars, and a set of rings. When the Russian had realized the equipment had arrived, he came into work with a gym bag containing warm up pant with stirrups that fit him extremely well, a fact that soon found Napoleon sitting amongst several secretaries all watching his partner with admiration and more than a little lust.

_How do they find out?, _he thought amusedly while Illya executed a perfect dismount, landing lightly on his feet beside the beam. He walked over to the rings and began to dry off his hands with a towel. "Excuse me, Ladies, I believe that's my cue," he said before leaping down from the bleachers to stand behind his partner. At Illya's nod, he placed his hands on his waist and lifted him until he grasped the rings.

The blond pulled himself up until his body was being held by the strength of his straightened arms. He lifted his legs until they were parallel to the floor, feet arched in a straight continuation of his legs. He held that position for a few seconds before lowering himself down into a cross. Finally, he swung his legs up until he was in a handstand before swinging himself into two revolutions prior to releasing the rings, somersaulting in the air and landing solidly on the mat. A spontaneous round of applause from the women caused him to look at the bleachers. Blushing furiously, he grabbed his towel and made swiftly for the men's locker room.

"Well, ah, I do believe the show is over," Napoleon announced. "I think it's time for all of us to return to work." He grinned as the women moaned "Aww!" and left the area. Fifteen minutes later, Illya re – emerged from the locker room freshly showered and wearing his suit. Joining him on the floor Napoleon said as they exited, "If you're going to keep this up as your new exercise routine, I'm going to start selling tickets to your workouts."

The Russian rolled his eyes and kept on walking. "Blockhead," he muttered under his breath.


	22. Mr Popularity - Phone

Napoleon groaned when the phone rang for what seemed the hundredth time that morning. "Please answer that, Tovarisch, it's probably another secretary wanting me to escort her to UNCLE's dinner dance. Whose stupid idea _was _that, anyway?"

"Your superior's," Illya replied as he answered the phone. "Kuryakin. No, he is not. I will tell him," he said before hanging up.

Napoleon held up his hand. "Don't tell me; I've made up my mind who I'm taking."

"Who?"

"You. Unless you have a date, let's go stag so I can avoid alienating my dating pool."

"You are lucky I like you."


	23. Not Much Time Left - Beach

"Today is the last day of July," Napoleon griped, "and I haven't had a chance to go to the beach _once._"

"Napoleon, I would not know what to do if I did not hear at least one complaint from you daily."

"Just because you like to be as white as a polar bear doesn't mean the rest of us don't want a tan. Women find my tan quite attractive and I'm looking positively pasty."

"If THRUSH captures us in August, I will tell them you wish to be interrogated in the sunlight."

"You really are a smart – alecky Russian."

"_Da._"


	24. Collector's Item - Record

Illya perused the used record bins at J&R Music World with the well - trained eye of an experienced collector. He wanted to add to his jazz collection, but he did not wish to spend a lot. After spending the better part of an hour at his task, he finally selected a copy of Thelonious Monk's 1956 album with Sonny Rawlins. He paid for his treasure and headed home to play it.

Napoleon heard the music before he knocked on the door. Entering he said, "That's Monk, I like that record."

"There is hope for you yet, Napoleon."

"Thank you."


End file.
